Broken

                                    

                                          
    "Hey, John." Paul answered the door on January third. "Come on in." 
                          
    "Are you sure your dad will be okay with it?" John asked. 
                          
    "Nope," Paul shook his head. "But he's away until January fifth." 
                          
    John laughed. "Let's get started," he nodded tears the guitar that was slung over his shoulder. "I've been working on a new song. I think you'll like it."
                          
     "Alrighty, then." Paul nodded. "Let's hear it." 
                          
    The two of them went into the sitting room, sat down opposite each other on the chairs that sat across from each other beside the fireplace and John began strumming his guitar while Paul watched him with a smile.
                          
    "In spite of all the danger
In spite of all that may be
I'll do anything for you
Anything you want me to
If you'll be true to me,"
                          
    John grinned at Paul.
                          
"In spite of all the heartache
That you may cause me
I'll do anything for you
Anything you want me to
If you'll be true to me,"
                          
    John winked at Paul and bobbed his head about.
                          
"I'll look after you
Like I've never done before
I'll keep all the others
From knocking at your door," 
                          
     Paul winked back at John nodded his head along with John's thumping beats on the floor with his foot.
                          
"In spite of all the danger
In spite of all that may be
I'll do anything for you
Anything you want me to
If you'll be true to me
                          
Yeah!
                          
In spite of all the heartache
That you may cause me
I'll do anything for you
Anything you want me to
If you'll be true to me
I'll do anything for you
Anything you want me to
If you'll be true to me." 
                          
    "You wrote that about me," Paul smirked.
                          
    "Well, aren't you just a genius?" John chuckled. 
                          
    Mike was peering in from the doorway to the kitchen and furrowed his brows, frowning deeply. He was confused, but he shook the thought away and hurried off to his room hoping to forget about it. However, Mike would not forget about what he had seen between his older brother and John and because of that he would be able to save Paul's life. 


                          
    It was several months later, on Paul's sixteenth birthday, that he, John, George, and Stuart (Pete having been sent of to boarding school by his father) were having a late night band practice and Paul noticed that it was nearly midnight. 
                          
    "I have to go," Paul said hurriedly, setting his guitar down. 
                          
    "Paul?!" John called after him. "Is everything okay?!?" 
                          
    "Yeah, everything's fine!" He yelled. "I'll pick my guitar up tomorrow! Goodbye!" And without another word or any explanation, he ran off. 
                          
    Stuart left around midnight.
                          
    "You spending the night, George?" John asked. 
                          
    "Sure," George shrugged his shoulders. "Why not?" 
                          
    Although John has insisted to Paul that his relationship with George would always be strictly professional and they would never become close friends, they in fact had become extremely close. George was one of John's best friend's along with Stuart and Pete (but not nearly as close as he was with Paul....obviously). 
                          
    Meanwhile, Paul entered the house quietly, hoping his father was asleep or not home....as always, no such luck.
                          
    "Do you realize what TIME IT IS?!?" Mr. McCartney slammed his fist down on the kitchen table and got to his feet. "IT IS PAST TWELVE IN THE MORNING!! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE HOME - "